I am intrigued by what I've been writing (why this scene...?)

The dog trot ted down the street, tail wagging,
long loopy legs almost tripping him up, well that's what it looks like, his
tongue out as he continues on his merry way, his journey, waltz me around
again, Winnie, oh, the man sat next to the pond, and she came up behind him,
putting her gloved hand on the black wrought iron bench, are you all right she
asked, he grunted, but it was a friendly sound, so she decided to slip into the
rest of the bench, the opposite end, it was long bench, the tree is drooping over
the pond, the flowers, petals dropping into the water the current takes
the natural debris down the stream, the pond has an outlet, and do they have an
outlet, behind them, up the hill, beyond the jagged stone wall is the castle,
long deserted, but now a vacation spot for birds and whatnots, he owns this
castle, and sitting there on the bench, his hands resting on the top of his
cane, he ponders the ripples in the water, were the fish still here, the
pebbles are shimmering in the sunlight, distorted image because of the
magnifying affect of that water, he looks over at the woman, her gloves were
lace, long almost up to her elbows, her hat was like a bower of flowers, gray
and light violet , why on earth would you come to the countryside dressed like
that, he asked, and she smiled, why not she responded, and he grunted again, he
wasn't one to talk with his ruffled high collar, his eyebrows are bushy and
black and WHY do I keep seeing these two people when I go into this meditation,
that interests me...